


Same Old Song

by TheIntrovertedM



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, I'm back at it again with Kenma and Anxiety, I've published 7 fics and I still struggle to tag, Inspired by one specific lyric really, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Social Anxiety, Songfic, Sort Of, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 21:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11975025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntrovertedM/pseuds/TheIntrovertedM
Summary: Kenma and Hinata have been together for years, yet Kenma still finds it hard to even hold hands with his boyfriend in public. He wants to change it, but he's not sure how to.





	Same Old Song

**Author's Note:**

> Look who's finally got their act together and finished a fic. I know, I'm surprised too. 
> 
> \----  
> This fic is inspired by a lyric from the Fall Out Boy song The (Shipped) Gold Standard, the title comes from the same song.
> 
> (Yes, I am back on my FOB lyric title bullshit)

_~I wanna scream I love you from the top of my lungs.~_

_~But I’m afraid that someone else will hear me.~_

\----

The first time Shouyou tried, it was bitterly cold and snow hinted that it was coming on the sharp hissing wind.

Kenma burrowed himself in his jacket, attempting to cling to any warmth he had. The streets of Tokyo were crowded but not overly so, and Kenma and Shouyou easily wove their way through. Shouyou’s hand crept out of his jacket pocket and gripped Kenma’s. 

A shiver of anxiety crawled through Kenma’s veins and he snatched his hand back. He could feel eyes on him, crowding him. He hid his face behind his hair, shame flooding his cheeks and coiling together with the anxiety. 

His thoughts whirled around in a flurry, a bitter voice damning him for his cowardice, twisting his thoughts into sharp things that hurt. He felt a light touch on the underside on his wrist briefly and Kenma glanced up at Shouyou.

The boy gave him a soft smile, small and reassuring, for Kenma only. It was a smile that said many things but they all fell into understanding. Kenma wanted to smile back, reassure Shouyou, return the favour. But his lips wouldn’t move properly and anxiety sent tremors through his hands. 

It was a wobbly not-really-a smile, and it twisted Kenma’s thoughts further. But Shouyou just curved his lips again, because he understood that too. 

And his boyfriend didn’t mention it, kept walking, talking in that easing way of his, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, a brighter more public smile on his lips and lighting his eyes. But Kenma understood that Shouyou was giving him what he knew he needed, space and time.

And with space and time things would change.

\----

In private Kenma was a tactile creature, prone to leaning and grabbing. Cuddling into blankets and boyfriends, gripping hands and stealing kisses. Tracing words and lips on skin, drawing hands through hair and letting hands tangle in his own. In private Kenma was calmer, at ease, a softer thing. 

In public, Kenma lost it. The weight of other people’s eyes and expectations drawing up the hard barrier between tactile and visible. A dark line that divided public and private.

But the time and space that Shouyou gave began to scrutinise that line, leaving smears and smudges, letting the private become public. Visible only in rare moments, subtle in its tangibility. 

\----

The second time occurred just as winter dug its heels in, clinging in vain desperation, reluctant to let spring take the spotlight.

The park was cool, pale pink blossoms riding the breeze, so pretty in their final fall. Kenma and Shouyou were silent, normal for them but unexpected to everyone else. Kenma stole glances at Shouyou, eyes latching onto his hair, his eyes, his lips. 

There was an expectation in the air, and Shouyou’s fingers brushed the underside of his wrist, an answer and a question mixed. Kenma felt the tugs of anxiety pull at him but entwined their fingers all the same. It felt right, yet it was the calm before the storm. Moments later Kenma retracted his hand, delving it deep into his pockets as he shrunk into his jacket.

The cool wind felt harsher somehow and Kenma cursed his cowardice. There were only a few people around, even a couple or two. Yet still Kenma couldn’t manage it, couldn’t keep such a small amount of contact. 

Shouyou made no comment, just continued walking and hummed under his breath. The song was something light and carefree, just like Shouyou. Kenma wished he could be the same, wished he could ignore the eyes that weren’t on him and do what he wanted. Instead he was stuck, mentally hating himself for never being able to do more, be more. 

The rest of the walk passed in semi comfortable silence only broken by Shouyou’s occasional passing comment. He offered, very sweetly, to drop Kenma home. Kenma declined, feeling mean but knowing he was just too bitter for Shouyou to be around any longer than necessary. Shouyou waved Kenma off, vigorous in an attempt to pull the mood back up. Kenma only shrugged and turn away. It took longer for him to get home when he trudged, it would be dark soon if he didn’t start moving.

\----

Kuroo raised his head in Kenma’s direction when he heard the apartment door slam.   
“Rough day Kitten?” He queried from the sofa, craning his head back to look at him.  
Kenma gave a shrug and continued towards his room, the door banging shut in an echo of the front door.   
Kuroo sighed, turning back to his recommended reading. 

Kenma got like this sometimes, when the weight of his own self perceived inadequacy got too much. He’d shut himself in, wouldn’t go out or do anything. Even food was secondary. Usually Kuroo gave him a few days to mope before pulling him out of his slump, gently of course. Simple things like opening the curtains and washing his hair for him. Nudges, Kuroo supposed, to get him back onto his feet.

But now there was Shouyou. The little shrimpy middle blocker added a whole new set of rules to the Kenma equation. Kuroo knew that the boy would be helping in his own way, texting and calling, smoothing over all Kenma’s rough edges. 

Kuroo only wondered how long it would be enough. 

He stood, textbooks stacked on the coffee table, and wandered into the kitchen. He made two teas, leaning against the counter while he waited for them to steep. He closed his eyes against the weight of it all. Kenma would be fine, he always was. It just took him some time, that’s all.  
Kenma needed time, that’s all.

Kuroo pulled off the counter and poured milk into the tea. Grabbing both in his hands, he walked as quickly as the tea mugs would allow.  
“Kitten, open up. I’ve got tea and if I spill it you’re cleaning it up.” 

\----

The third time was the worst, and it was Kenma’s fault. 

The mall was teeming with people, it was almost a battle strategy to get through it all, and Kenma couldn’t keep track of Shouyou on top of that. The pair had braved the mall to get a new game for Kenma but the trouble was coming in making their way out again. 

On impulse Kenma grabbed Shouyou hand when they managed to get near each other. It felt fine, felt natural, like holding hands with Shouyou always did. For about 30 seconds, until Kenma’s chest tightened and his body began to shake.

He dropped Shouyou’s hand like it was fire and clutched his hands to his chest. His vision blurred, the people around swimming into indistinct blobs. His throat closed over and he was trembling, shaking, his body wracked with anxiety. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, crawling over him, seeing him, judging him and he couldn’t breathe. Voices were buzzing in his ears, loud, so loud. 

The bathroom sign appeared like a beacon in his stinging vision and he stumbled toward it, pushing through the door with shaking hands. Kenma sunk to the ground, curling in on himself, choking on nothing. Everything was loud, so loud, his ears ringing, alarm signals pounding through his body. Kenma closed his eyes, trying to shut out the world around him, everything amplified but dulled. A cacophony of white noise.

He heard the bathroom door open and his entire being trembled, anxiety spilling into earthquakes. A hand rested in between his shoulder blades, circling and circling, soothing him. A hand reached down and held his own loosely, a thumb mimicking the circling on his back to the back of his hand. Kenma’s breath hiccuped, and his chest unwound the smallest amount. 

“Breathe Kenma. Breathe.” There was a soft voice in his ear, as if it knew that his head is spinning with the unquiet of the world.   
“In and out, in and out. Just like that.” The voice anchored him, calming him.  
“Slow, steady, in and out. You’re doing it perfectly.” Kenma felt his breath even, the knot in his chest undoing with every inhale, not matter how sharp or hard. His shaking had died down to mere shivering and his vision had cleared. 

The hand moved from his back to tuck his dirty blond hair behind his ear. Kenma turned to see Shouyou looking at him, brown eyes swimming in concern and care. A comfortable weight settled on the small of his back and Kenma felt the last of his stuttering breath ease.

“Kenma, you don’t have to do this for me. I don’t mind not holding your hand in public, I know how you feel. If you do this, do it for you.” Shouyou’s face was still, serious. Kenma inhaled shakily before answering.  
“I am Shouyou, I am doing it for me, and for you too. It’s just hard, and, and ..”  
“You’re trying and that’s all that matters. You’ll get there one day if you really want to. Just take your time Kenma, don’t rush for me. Okay?”  
“Okay, okay. And .. thank you.”  
“No problem, anything for you.” Shouyou squeezed Kenma’s hand briefly before letting go and standing.

He slipped out of the bathroom and Kenma followed shortly after. The crowds had thinned with the end of lunch and the pair made their swift get away while it lasted.

\----

The phone buzzed in his hand, signalling the fifth time Shouyou had called Kenma since he’d gotten home. 

Kenma’s thumb automatically moved to decline the call, the phone stilling in his hand. The apartment was quiet save for his own harsh breathing and the occasional buzz of his phone in his hand. He’s glad, no noise means no Kuroo. No Kuroo means no probing questions and attempts at distraction. At least for now.  
For now it’s enough though.

Kenma shuffles quickly to his room. His free hand is curling and uncurling in his pocket, his grip on his phone is white knuckled. Every breath he takes feels like it’s being dragged out of his lungs. Kenma briefly wonders if he’s going to pass out but each inhale gives him enough oxygen to shove his bedroom door open and crawl beneath his duvet. His back hunches over, body curling up just like his hands were. 

Kenma switches his phone off, blindly putting it on his bedside table. He closes his eyes, welcoming the pitch black behind his eyelids. It’s a nice backdrop for the rage of criticism happening inside his head and his still ragged breathing. 

Kenma’s head feels overfilled with thoughts, all of them revolving around this afternoon’s events. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him, it’s just holding hands. It’s not like hugging or kissing. Friends hold hands for god’s sake. It’s an incredibly simple thing to do. But here Kenma is, huddled under his duvet, having a breakdown. 

Kenma doesn’t know how long he stays like that, breathing harshly and curled up like he needs to be as small as possible to disappear, before he hears a knock at his door. He opens his mouth to tell Kuroo to go away but no sound comes out. The door creaks open anyway, and he hears a light shuffling of feet, a voice at the back of his mind thinking vaguely that it doesn’t sound like Kuroo. His bed dips, the weight light, which is unusual for Kuro as well. He rarely sits on Kenma’s bed.

“... Kenma?” a soft voice asks and Kenma starts, the bed shaking with his sudden movement.   
“Sh-shouyou?!” Kenma peeks his head out to blink owlishly at his boyfriend who’s sitting on the end of his bed, face soft with concern. Kenma coughs, his throat closing up to turn it into choking. Shouyou is beside him in an instant. Rubbing his back soothingly. Kenma is still caught on the fact that Shouyou is even here. 

“I didn’t- I don’t- Why ar- What are you doing here?” Kenma manages to stutter out, breathing slowly evening out. The situation feels like a bad case of déjà vu, far too similar to the reason for this mess for Kenma’s liking. 

Shouyou shushes him, humming softly instead, completely focused on calming Kenma down. Kenma doesn’t think he can even fully do that, just by the fact that Shouyou is here and he has no idea why. 

But on the contrary, his breath eventually fully evens out, and he manages to uncurl himself and sit up. The urge to take up as little room as possible and hide is still there, but it’s dimmed. Shouyou is still rubbing at his back, and the silence is settling uncomfortably in Kenma’s chest. He opens his mouth to talk, but the first thing he says is not what’s foremost on his mind. 

“Where’s Kuroo?” his voice is raspy and cracks a little. His face flushes, but Shouyou pays no mind. He shifts, settling in closer to Kenma, and slowing the rubbing until his hand merely rests on Kenma’s back, familiar and comforting.   
“Not here. He’s at Bokuto’s, I think. It doesn’t matter does it?” His tone is concerned, eyes peering at Kenma for confirmation. “Do you want him here? I can text him if you need-”  
“It’s okay Shou. I don’t need him here. It’s fine.” Kenma interrupts, leaning into his boyfriend slightly.

Shouyou glances at him, not looking entirely convinced. Kenma sighs, and tries to put his thoughts in order for him to explain.. Or something.  
“Kenma, honestly, are you okay?” Shouyou is quiet, but his arm moves to tighten around Kenma. It’s a weighty question. Especially if he’s asked to be honest. Kenma hates being honest about these things. Too many counsellors and therapists have asked the same thing, but they’ve never helped, only made him feel more suffocated.

Kenma sighs, “Probably not. I don’t know. This doesn’t feel okay, but that’s normal. I guess.” Forming sentences is becoming harder, it’s always like this. Being constantly on edge is tiring, and tipping over that edge is probably better than Valium for knocking him out. The adrenaline is wearing off, the “anxiety high” fading out to leave him lax and drained.   
“Can I just .. sleep. Please. I promise I’ll talk. Later. Let me. Rest. Okay?” Kenma droops. Slipping in Shouyou’s grasps, his boyfriend lets him. He pulls the cover over him, standing up and sighing.

“I’ll be here when you wake up. And when you do, we’re talking. No running off this time.” His voice is firm, the blankets being tucked up under Kenma’s chin at the same time.   
“Mmmhmm.” Sleep drags Kenma under, just as Shouyou drops a kiss on his cheek, slipping out of the room with a soft murmured “I love you.”

\----

When Kenma wakes it’s dark out. His closed curtains no longer blocking light out but rather keeping it in. He pulls his blankets back and stands up, swaying slightly. He rubs blearily at his eyes, not feeling all that rested despite having a long nap. He lets the ends of his hoodie fall down around his hands, shuffling towards his door and the lounge. 

When he enters he finds the tv on, Shouyou tucked up on the couch watching some cartoon. There’s a lot of bright colours and muted yelling. Kenma pauses the doorway, just taking in how Shouyou’s hair glints in the tv light and how his bottom lip is caught in a half bite of concentration. He shuffles forward two more steps, intending to go get a drink from the kitchen but Shouyou’s head whips around, spying him before he can get anywhere near the kitchen entryway. 

“Kenma, you’re awake. Come sit, I’ve got drinks.” Shouyou pats the spot beside him. Kenma redirects his shuffling, dropping onto the cushion beside his boyfriend a minute later. Shouyou leans over him, handing him one of the two mugs from the coffee table that he hadn’t noticed before. Kenma cups his mug and takes a sip. Shouyou eyes him as he takes a sip of his own. A moment later the tv is muted entirely, and there’s nothing but the sound of his own breathing. Kenma stiffens.

“So, talking,” Shouyou starts, moving the mug around in his hands. “I’ll talk, you just listen and stuff. ‘Kay?” Kenma nods, wondering how many sips he has left to stall with.  
“Right, okay. Look, I like you Kenma. A lot. And I know you like me too. Hopefully a lot as well. And I know you don’t like people and you get anxious.” There’s a pause as Shouyou takes a breath and another gulp of his drink. 

“So I don’t understand while you keep forcing yourself to do .. PDA and stuff. I don’t mind if I can’t hold your hand, and I know I sometimes forget but that’s okay, you can just tell me. I’m just fine with being with you. As long as you’re next to me and we’re out, I’m happy. Super happy, do you have any idea how happy and excited you make me Kenma?” Shouyou focuses on Kenma, eyes bright, sparkling even in the low light. It makes Kenma a little dizzy. He sucks in a breath, and gives the tiniest of nods. He needs Shouyou’s gaze off him, it’s too much, like trying to look at the sun.

The corners of Shouyou’s mouth twitch upwards briefly, before his expression turns solemn again. Kenma often wonders how many see this side of Shouyou, the concentrated, serious one. When all the brightness in his eyes fades into a determined glint and his mouth sets in a firm line.   
“I don’t know if you’re trying to do this for my sake but please don’t. It hurts me more when you try to do this. I hate seeing you hurt. Or having a panic attack you could’ve avoided.” Shouyou’s hands tightened around the mug, the tips of his fingers going white.   
“I care about you a lot, so do other people. Kuroo’s said he worries about you too. When I came around, before, he uh told me. We want to help, and we want you to help yourself but I don’t think this is the way to do it Kenma.” 

Kenma tucks up tighter into himself, pulling the mug to his chest. He fixes his eyes on the rim, tracing it round and round with his finger.  
“Okay.” Kenma whispers, ignoring the fact he knows Shouyou has turned to look at him. “But I don’t- I don’t know what else I can do. I don’t know what will help.” Kenma blinks, once, twice. His eyes feel wet, and he hates it.

Shouyou gently takes the mug from his hands and sets it on the table. He takes Kenma’s hands in his own, but he doesn’t make Kenma look at him. Kenma sometimes forgets how well his boyfriend knows him, even though it’s been years.   
“Do things on your own terms, whatever you feel comfortable with. Whatever you want. When you want, for however long you want. This is about you Kenma. This is your choice.” 

Kenma hums, removes his hands from Shouyou’s to lean into his side instead. He picks up the remote from the side of the couch, flicking the mute button. Another cartoon, different from the first, the colours more muted and earthy, takes up the screen. Kenma lists his head so it rests on Shouyou’s shoulder.

“Okay.” Kenma agrees. “Okay.”

\----

The next time the sun was beginning to reclaim its spot, the days growing longer and hotter.

Shouyou was wearing an orange tank top that clashed gloriously with his hair. Kenma had agreed to ditch the hoodie, feeling exposed in his loose t-shirt. He adjusts the backpack straps, moving them so that they dig into a new slightly different spot. 

Shouyou bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to catch glimpses of the different rides over the crowds. Kenma wasn’t having any better luck, despite the few centimetres he had. The boardwalk was warm, Kenma could feel the heat even through his sneakers. He had no idea how Shouyou’s flip flops hadn’t partially melted and stuck to it by now. The were the most bright crimson red you could ever imagine, with little silver studs on the straps. Kenma had been there when Natsu presented them to Shouyou, awkwardly wrapped with the price tag still on, for a belated Uni parting gift.   
Shouyou adored them. And now he had a chance to wear them, summer finally starting to make it’s appearance. Kenma was 90% sure he hadn’t worn anything else since.

“What ride has the shortest line?” Kenma shrugged the backpack into yet another temporarily comfortable position. Shouyou stopped bouncing.  
“Dunno. Can’t see.” Shouyou motioned for Kenma to turn so he could grab the map from the backpack. “I’m just gonna pick one off here. Hold it for me”   
Kenma held the map in both hands and returned from his slight stoop. Shouyou did a few quick pirouettes, stopped, closed his eyes, and stabbed randomly at somewhere on the map. Kenma bent down to read it.

“Big O. Isn’t that the big loop de loop roller coaster over there?”  
Shouyou shrugged, already setting off in the direct Kenma had pointed. “Yep, that’s where we’re off too.”   
Kenma sighed, the map still clutched in his hand. Carefully he swapped it to his right hand. Keeping pace with Shouyou he tentatively reached out his left hand, hooking his pinky with Shouyou’s.   
Kenma took a breath, counted _one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten_ and let his hand drop away again. His breathing was even, and he was okay. He was okay.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the edges of Shouyou’s mouth quirk up, a tiny smile just because of him. Just for him too. 

It was okay. He could do this. Eventually. But for now, small steps were okay.  
He was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for reading. Comments/Criticism are always welcome. 
> 
> I should hopefully have a couple more fics out by the end of the year, if anyone cares.


End file.
